Shutting the doorshutting it on the past
by SesameStreetReject
Summary: Alex needs to arrange her thoughts before she can enjoy heaven. Twoshot, one alex/molly, one alex/gene.
1. Chapter 1

The door shut behind her. A flash off brilliant light, lighting up her silhouette in one final blaze of glory, then it was over, leaving only a dying imprint on his eyelids. He sighed; a deep, heartfelt sigh, because even he, with his tough exterior wall, knew that this time would be different. This time, he would remember, because there is a certain type of soul that one never forgets, and that is the soul of the one you love. So he knew from then on that he would carry a weight of grief in his chest for the woman he loved but could not be with, because she was just as dead to him having left his world as she was for those in hers.

As the door shut she closed her eyes, because she knew she must do this. Being a psychologist, she had always given herself a small amount of time to herself for examining her feelings, and she knew that now it was imperative that she should, since it was the biggest moment of her life, no actually, biggest moment of her death. Molly. Her beautiful little girl. She remembered holding her for the first time; the weight of her confirming her reality, those little eyes that fought to stay open and her tiny hands grasping people's fingers. She had thought at that moment that she would never want to let go of her. But she had had to. A bullet had gone and forced it's way between them, all because of a desperate druggy calling the 'get out card' that had probably died twenty years ago. She remembered how hard she had tried, in the month after Pete's departure, to make Molly's life as normal as possible. Those months had turned into years, and she had still tried so hard to give her daughter the best start in life. Only to die, and never see if all the effort had payed off. Had it been worth it? Of course it had she told herself. A memory flashed in her eye of Molly's face as she drove her to school on the day of her death. She had been confident, happy and funny, all the things Alex herself had missed out on being in her teenage years. The death of her parents had made her retreat, become shy, quiet and withdrawn. Worry now flared in her for Molly. But then the optimistic part of her, the part that had developed and grown under Gene's company these past few years, told her to think of all the good qualities her parents deaths had inspired within her. Determination, independence and kindness, these were the things she was always trying to teach Mols. And anyway, little Alex Price had been shy anyway, what with the constant need to impress her mother. Molly was anything but shy, so maybe it would just be the good attributes that rubbed off this time. The days after the car bomb, she had cried at everything because everything sought to remind her of them. Then, like a flash of cool, blissful relief, she remembered the day, the first day in her early life, when she had been distracted by something happening in the now. And like magic, the heavy weight of grief had been lifted for moments, as she forgot about all the terrible loss and pain she should be feeling. That was what she wanted for Molly. Eyes still shut tight, she whispered, if not to be heard then just to lay her mind at ease; "Forget me Mols, and go on girl, go take a running jump at the world. I love you, and always will, but it's time to move on."


	2. Chapter 2

Gene. From the moment she'd landed in his world, he'd exploded into her every thought and invaded every moment of her consciousness. There had been a spark, that as many sparks do, first started out as a mutual hatred, which turned to camaraderie and then to a mutual need for each other. She remembered those first few weeks; shrouded in confusion and fear, she'd turned those feelings into anger at Hunt, butting heads with him in a way she'd only done with her ex-husband. The fighting had gone on until she became resigned; having seen her parents die meant she no longer felt she must fight against this world. And so she'd grown closer to Gene, still fighting, but in a way friends do, with no spite but still fire. The corruption had drawn them together, making them something beyond the team of CID, more of a double act. What with facing the tide of bent coppers, they had no time to look at each other, not until the final battle by which time doubts had crept in, Martin had got between them, and the double act was over, forced apart by a bullet. So when they were reunited again, the shattered edges of the two were bound to not fit together. He had doubted her, and so now she doubted him. But her doubts had been drawn out over a year, festering away at her in the form of Jim Keats. Where Jeanette had led Gene astray, so Keats wormed himself into her mind, building a wall of arguments against Gene. That's when the truth had come out. The terrible, brutal truth. She was dead. They were dead. Gene was dead. All wallowing in that grave of a world, but not for long. A few hours later and she was out. Thrown out without time to think. But that had been good. What would she have done in the other world? Cried? She'd cried enough tears already to (ironically) last a lifetime. Fix things with Gene? No, she realised. No, things with Gene could never be fixed. They'd fought too much, argued too long, danced around each other for three years now. The possibility of what they could have been was so great, so beautiful, and yet so unreachable. Because they were both too bigger personalities to work forever. Somewhere along the line, one of them would screw up again, and this time it would be over. No, it was better like this; better to have the bitter sweet memory of a love that never was, than the torn remnants of a love broken. Besides, as Gene would say, you couldn't have a DI sleeping with her DCI, what would the Supers say. Bloody hell she was going to miss him. Those boots, the late Quattro, the smell of fags and whiskey that followed him everywhere, the determined line of his jaw when he knew he was right, those dazzling eyes that had sparkled on the rare occasions she'd seen him smile. The Manc Lion, her Manc Lion. Forever alone, but she hoped, that for a time, he had felt that he wasn't. And with that, Alex Drake opened her eyes.

So, that is all for this one. I'm not so keen on this story, but I thought what the hell, just do it!


End file.
